STC TT

ABOUT WHALE-CATCHING.

TOLD BY

A FATHER TO HIS SON.

STRRALES

AoOSZAL OSA EDITED RUS DY &

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NEW HAVEN.
SHED BY §. BABCOCK.

VQ WA VOBVE ithe hehehe

REALTY.

My dear little Friends : 4 st ‘S ae

The interesting and instructive “Stories aBouT WHALE-CaTCH-

ING,” which I am now about to tell you, were written by a worthy

clergyman of one of our beautiful little inland towns, and were print-

ed in a somewhat larger book than this, several years ago. As they

then delighted a great many little folks, who are now grown into men

and women, | have good reason to hope they will not be uninteresting

to you also.. 1 was much pleased with them myself, for they are told

in that easy and familiar style which children can readily understand.

Accordingly, I thought, if I could add these, and the ** STORES ABOUT

THE ELEPHANT,” by the same gentleman, to my already long Iist

of “ TELLER’s TaLzs,” I should be doing you all an aceeptable favor.

I am happy in being able to tell you, that the author has very kindly
given me permission to do so. For this, I doubt not you will all
thank him as heartily asI do. I have told you these stories almost in

his own words, having only left out a small part, which I had not room

for, in a book of this size. That the reading of them may prove pleas-

ant and profitable to you all, is the wish and hope of your
Old friend and well-wisher,

Tuomas TELLER.

Roseville Hall, 1845.

STORIES
BOUT WHALE CATCHING.

D> Val iy Meo ta

THE STORM.

“They'll have a hard time of it to-night I fear,”
said the old man, as he closed the outside door,
after looking abroad; “a bad time—but John is a
good sailor, and the Betsey is a good ship. I guess
they'll weather it. I’ve seen many a worse time.”

“T tremble for them,” said Mrs. Russel, the excel-
lent wife of the son of the old man who had just
- spoken; “it will prove a gloomy night, [ fear. Is
there any prospect of its breaking away?”

“None,” replied the old man; “the storm in-
creases.”

“Oh! my dear husband!” exclaimed Mrs. Rus-
sel, justly alarmed: “What will become of you?
The Lord be gracious!”

“Do you think father will be shipwrecked ?”
eagerly inquired Anne, a daughter ten years of
age, who, seeing her mother’s anxiety, had thrown

herself partly into her lap.

~

whoa THE STORM.

aad

“T hope not, my child,” replied Mrs. R.; “your
father is well acquainted with the management of
a ship. We should hope for the best. God can
protect on the water, as well as on the land.”

“But the storm is a mighty one,” said Anne;
“do you hear the wind roar, mother?”

“Yes, it blows severely; but, my child, we must
trust all with God.” —

“T don’t believe father will be shipwrecked,”
exclaimed William, a courageous, unthinking lad
of twelve years; “he knows enough to keep off
shore in such a storm as this.”

“But the wind is strong, William,” said Anne,
“and grandfather told us, you know, that it was
inland, and might drive the ship on shore. Oh
dear, how bad I feel!”

“You are always frightened if the wind blows
any, said William. “When I go to sea, I hope
we shall not have a crying girl on board.”

“But you are not going to sea,” said Anne.
“Tam going the next voyage that father makes,”
said William. : |

“But this is his last voyage, William,” replied
Anne. “Mother told me so.”

“Did you tell her so, mother?” asked William.

“Yes, my son; if your father is prospered in his
present voyage, I hope he will not go any more”

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THE STORM. 7

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«Well, 7 mean to go,” said William.

«T hope not, my son,” said Mrs. Iusseli <“ltas
a dangerous life. How would you feel if you
were at sea to-night!” 7

“I wish I was on b-o-a-r-d—” This last word
was feebly uttered and scarcely heard; for at that
moment a flash of lightning poured its blaze
through every window, and the peal of thunder
which almost instantly followed, shook the house
upon its foundations.

Such was the conversation which took place at
Capt. John Russel’s during a severe thunder storm
which had suddenly arisen on the evening alluded
to above, and raged most of the night following.

Capt. Russel was the commander of a whaling
ship. He had followed this kind of life for several
years, and generally with considerable success.

With the property thus acquired, he had pur-
chased a few acres of land, on which he had built
a neat house, delightfully situated near the sea, and
commanding a full view of the harbor of B ’
and of many leagues of the Atlantic Ocean, which
stretched out on either side of the harbor.

The family of Capt. Russel consisted of a father
—the old man already mentioned, who had been

1*

g THE STORM.

~

an experienced master of a vessel in the same bu-
siness; but who for several years, by reason of the
infirmities of age, had been chiefly confined to the
house; of Mrs. Russel, his wife, and William and
Ann, their two children, whom we have noticed
before.

Capt. Russel had now been absent on a whaling
voyage, for more than two years. As he designed
this to be his last voyage, he had told Mrs. Russel
that he should prolong it till his cargo was full;
but that he hoped he should be permitted to return
in at least two years. That time had now passed
away; and for several weeks the family had been
anxiously expecting his arrival. During this time,
the children had daily watched the vessels as they
hove in sight, and passed along, and often did they
imagine that the Befsey-Anne, the ship in which
Capt. Russel had sailed, was approaching. ‘Grand-
father! grandfather!’ or ‘mother! mother! they’re
coming! they’re coming !’—was frequently heard; .
and so common had this exclamation become, that
neither their grandfather or mother, at length, paid
much attention to it.

On the morning of the day preceding the storm
to which we have alluded, the children had spied
a ship at quite a distance, which, as usual, they

THE STORM. 9

o

announced as the Betsey-Anne. Little attention
was paid to this announcement at the time. ‘The
day was fine, although warm and sultry; but the
wind was so light, that she made but little progress.
By noon, however, she had approached so near,
and looked so suspicious even to the naked eye,
that the aged grandfather brought forth a spy-glass,
which, in common times, no one handled but him-
self. It was a favorite instrument—one that had
been his companion for many a voyage, and had
enabled him to escape many a ship of war, and
many an iceberg in the Northern Ocean.

“it’s certainly the Betsey-Anne,” said William.

“T don’t know, master William, I don’t know,”
said the old man. “Wiser folks than you -have
been many a time mistaken, but this,” said he,
pointing to his spy-glass, “I guess will determine
the point.”

With some effort the old gentleman, accompa-
nied by William and Anne, reached a good place
at a short distance from the house, and the obser.
vation began.

“Ah!” exclaimed the aged grandfather, as he
vainly attempted to hold the spy-glass steady, “I
was once a good marksman; but my day is over.”
He contrived, however, to catch a glance of the
ship, but his eye was dim, and he could only doubt.

10 THE STORM.

“Grandfather, grandfather, let me look!” said
Wilham; “Iam sure! cantell. It’s her! it’s cer-
tainly her! It’s the Betsey-Anne—I’m sure it is,”
exclaimed he, as he looked through the glass.

“ Pray, brother William, let me look,” said Anne.

“Have a little patience,” said William. “You
can not tell. I don’t believe you can point the
glass even so as to see her.”

Again William was positive that it was the
Betsey-Anne.e He could see her flag, and he
thought he could see her name, which, it was
known, was painted in broad letters upon it.

“Ah!” said the old man, “it may be true that it
is the Betsey-Anne; it may be true that her flag
is flying; but her distance is too great for you to
read her name, Master William.”

William, however, felt certain; and Anne, when
she looked, was almost sure, although it was doubt-
ful whether she saw the ship at all; even their
mother, who was finally called, could not but think
she saw—indistinctly, indeed—the favorite name.

“It may be,” said the old man; “my eyes are
‘dim-——I had only a glimpse. Heaven grant it is.”

The afternoon proved hot and sultry. Scarcely
a breath of wind waved the leaves of the trees, and
it was quite plain that the ship, whatever she was,

THE STORM. 11

ww —~

was motionless on the water. At last they saw
her sails lowered, for the purpose, as was supposed,
of waiting until the evening breeze should enable
her to approach the harbor.

In a few hours, however, a dark cloud was seen
gathering in the west, and indications of an ap-
proaching storm came thick and fast. ‘The cloud
at length rose; the lightnings were seen flashing at
a distance, and now then a peal of thunder broke
upon the ear. By turns the vessel and the cloud
were watched. At length the anxious and watch-
ful group upon the hill saw, with delight, the sails
of the vessel spread to the wind. It was apparent
that an effort was making to reach a more secure
place of anchorage. Indeed, the hope was in-
dulged, that the storm might delay until the vessel
could reach her destined birth. Fora short time
she was seen proudly urging her way through the
waters; but soon she was seen turning her course,
and once more standing out into the waters of the
broad Atlantic.

“What can it mean, mother?” inquired the
anxious little Anne.

“Mean,” replied William, who undertook to
answer the question, “they don’t mean to get on
the rocks; that’s what it means.”

12 THE ARRIVAL.

_—~

“'There’s danger, my dear,” said the old man,
“of an inland breeze. Seamen like sea-room in
a night like this. They are wise in standing out.”

The rapid approach of the storm now warned
the family to seek the shelter of the house, and
here occurred the conversation with which we
commenced our story.

THE ARRIVAL.

The storm continued to rage, as we have inti-
mated, until a late hour of the night. The anxiety
of Mrs. Russel, although she was one of those
whose hearts are fixed, trusting in God, prevented
her seeking repose until towards morning. Even
then her slumbers were broken and unrefreshing,
and at an early hour she rose under the sad uncer-
tainty of what might have befallen her husband, if
indeed the ship they had seen was his.

It was a delicious summer morning. The clouds
had dispersed; the sun was coming forth in all his
glory; and although the waters of the ocean were
rolling in long and distant waves, it was apparent
that as the cause of this agitation had ceased, tran-
quility would soon repose on the bosom of the

deep.

THE ARRIVAL. 13

——

a

It is natural to suppose that the eyes of the
whole family would be directed with eager gaze
upon the harbor and ocean. They were so. But
not a single vessel was now in sight, unless it was
one which was aground on the opposite side of
the harbor; this was a smaller vessel than the
Betsey-Ann. The shores were scrutinized, but,
except this vessel, nothing looked like a wreck.

Mrs. Russel communicated this intelligence to
her aged father, whose infirmities had prevented
him from rising as early as the rest of the family.

“It is good news!” said the old man : “T trust
they succeeded in getting out to sea.”

“No doubt they did,” said William, who had
followed his mother to the bed-side of his grandfa-
ther; “they'll be in before night, [ dare say.”

“Tt may be they've sunk,” said Anne. “It was
a dreadful storm.”

“T hope not, my child,” said the old man.
“The wind where they were, might have been
favorable to carry them out to sea. Before a fair
wind, even if it be strong, a we ship is not
easily sunk.”

The prediction of William, Hea the Betsey-
Anne would arrive that day, was not realized.
Indeed, before night a rumor reached the family

14 THE ARRIVAL.

that several vessels had been stranded on the
shore, several miles from their residence; and,
as conjecture would have it, it was suspected by
some, that among them was the Betsey-Anne.

“Tt is of little consequence,” said Mrs. Russel,
“what becomes of the vessels and their cargoes,
if the crews be but safe.” But as to this, nothing
satisfactory could be learned. It proved, how-
ever, not long aiter, that the vessels in question
were chiefly coasters. No tidings could be ob-
tained to satisfy Mrs. Russel that even their sus-
picions were correct, that the vessel which they
had seen belonged to her husband. ‘This she
was now willing to believe, glad as she would
have been, under other circumstances, to have
hailed his arrival. ‘This conjecture was the more
firmly believed, as no intelligence could be ob-
tained, that the Betsey-Anne had either been
seen or spoken, which it was thought she probably
would have been, had she actually arrived.

The morning of the fourth day brought tidings,
however, of Captain Russel. On that morning,
William had risen earlier than the rest of the
family; and, casting his eye on the harbor, he
discovered a vessel, the flag of which he knew to

be the Betsey-Anne’s, slowly approaching the

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THE ARRIVAL. 27

——

place where she usually lay when at anchor.
He stayed not to mark minutely her altered ap-
pearance; but, rushing into the house, vociferated
from the entrance, in a voice which roused every
inmate of the family :—“ They've come—They’ve
come !” :

Mrs. R. and Anne soon made their appearance;
and, although the former well knew the natural
confidence of her son, she was more inclined than
usual to believe him, in this instance, correct.

“T really hope you are correct, my son,” replied
Mrs. Russel, approaching the window, and casting
her eye down the harbor, on the vessel in question.

“ Now what do you think, mother ?” earnestly
inquired William, catching her countenance, as he
put the question.

“Why, my son, I am not sure,” said Mrs. Rus-
sel. “We shall have a better view from the brow
of the hill.”

Accordingly they all proceeded to a spot at
some distance, which commanded a still better
view than the one from the house.

“ T don’t believe it is the Betsey-Anne,” said lit-
tle Anne,—“ why, how she looks! what can the
matter be, mother 2?”

“They must have had a sad time of it,” said
Mrs. Russel, “« whoever they be.”

18 THE ARRIVAL.

——s_

—

“ Why, mother, the masts are all gone, I should
think,” said Anne.

“ ‘They have come in under a jury-mast,” said
Mrs. Russel. “They must have encountered a
terrible storm. The Lord be praised, that they
have escaped.”

“Tt is the Betsey-Anne, then?” said William,
observing the emotion of his mother.

“| believe it is, my son,” said Mrs. Russel. “ Let
us be thankful that God has been merciful. If
your father and his men are only safe—”

“Oh! how I tremble,” said Anne—* perhaps
father was washed overboard !”

“T trust not, my child,” said Mrs. Russel—at the
same time preparing to look through a spy-glass,
which she had brought with her. 3

Her hand trembled some—what affectionate
wite’s hand, under such circumstances, would not
have trembled !—as she brought the glass to bear
upon the vessel. Jor a moment the blood forsook
her cheek—but it soon returned, and a sweet smile
was seen playing there—

“My children! your father has arrived—he is
safe.”

“Can you see him! can yousee him?” earnestly
inquired William—“ pray, mother, let me look.”

THE ARRIVAL. 19

“Oh!” said the enraptured boy, “I can see him;
he is looking through a spy-glass directly at wse’

«Let me look, brother William,” said Anne.

« Hold,” said William; “ pretty soon—I want
to catch a glimpse of old Tom. He was so old,
that father said, you know, he feared he would
die. But he would go.” pe ;

“ Can you see your father, my child?” inquired
Mrs. Russel, as she held the glass for Anne.”

“Why, I don’t know,” said Anne, “I see some-
thing, but—” |

“J hardly think you will be able to see him,
through the glass,” observed Mrs. Russel—* but I
hope you will see him here, before night.”

“Oh!” said Anne, “I do hope—”

The progress of the vessel was slow, owing to
the smallness of the sail] under which she came,
and the lightness of the breeze which prevailed.
But, at length, she reached her usual anchoring
place, some distance from the wharf. Soon after
this-a boat put off, and was urged towards the main
land, in fine style, by several hearty oarsmen.

Mrs. Russel and her children had arrived at the
wharf, ready to receive and welcome the husband
and the father.

20 “THE EXfuaNATION.
a ott RA AR AOR rel eA a Laer Rr

It was a happy meeting—but I shall not at-
tempt to describe it. My little readers may judge
how happy it was—a meeting of a fond husband,
and an affectionate wife—of a kind father, and
delighted children; and this after a long sepaya-
tion—after a tempest, too, which had well nigh
separated them forever.

In a short time the party proceeded towards the
house. ‘The interview between Capt. R. and his
aged father was almost too much for the old man.

“T did’nt much expect to see you again, in this
world,” said the hoary-headed old man. “You
must have had a hard time of it, at last.”

“A severe storm, indeed,” replied Capt. Russel,
“but a good Providence preserved us.” _

“A merciful Providence, truly!” ejaculated the
old man.

THE EXPLANATION.

Capt. Russel now proceeded briefly to say, that
his voyage, “though unexpectedly long, had been
pleasant and prosperous; and on the morning you
first saw the Betsey-Anne, we had a fair prospect
of entering the harbor and anchoring before night.
But the wind suddenly failed us, and during the
day we were obliged to exercise patience.

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VHE EXPLANATION, 23

owe

Towards evening, the prospect of a storm was
such, that I felt it important to get furtherin. I
indulged the hope, that we might anchor at our
usual place before it came on. For a-short time
the wind favored us—the vessel moved rapidly
towards the desired haven. But it was soon
apparent to us all, that our only chance of safety
was, in getting as fast as possible out to sea.
Accordingly the ship’s head was turned towards
the ocean; and, instead of seeing you that night,
as we had fondly hoped, we had before us the
prospect of a watery grave. My men acted brave-
ly, and vied with one another to save the ship. It
was the most tempestuous night [ ever witnessed:
No one could venture across the deck, but at the
hazard of being swept away. |

All at once, a cry was made by a man forward :
Captain, two men overboard !—haul up !—haul
up !—at the same time; | heard the voice of Tom
erying—Massa, massa, save poor ‘l'om! I’m lost,
Tm lost !—and of Anderson, ata still greater dis-
tance, calling aloud for assistance. |

No time was to be lost. Yet the question was,
what could be done! - The darkness of the night
rendered it impossible to see the poor fellows—we
could only hear them—and every minute was bur-

94 THE EXPLANATION.

rying the vessel farther from them. I seized my
trumpet, and calling as loud as I was able, bid
them have good courage—and assured them that
I would do all in my power to save them.

“Did they hear you, father?” asked William.

“Yes,” replied Capt. Russel, “it afterwards ap-
peared that they did; otherwise they would soon
have relinquished their efforts and sunk. Instantly
I ordered the ship about. It was a hazardous ex-
periment, and well nigh had we been lost; for in
Juffing, the ship fell into a trough of the sea, and a
fair breach was made over her. She rose again,
however. Get ready the boat, said J. Sir, said
the mate, it’s allin vain; no boat can live a single
half-hour in such a sea as this. ©

Get ready the boat instantly, I repeated. Ina
few minutes it was lowered. Now, my brave lads,
who will put their lives into God’s hands, and go
with me?

Here! said Thompson, stepping forward.—
Here, captain! exclaimed Nelson. Enough, said
I—the very men I would have chosen. Lower
away—push off—take care—may God preserve
us! Fortunately we got clear of the ship in safety.

Farewell, captain, exclaimed Mr. Kellogg, the
mate. Farewell! farewell! said one and all; and

THE EXPLANATION. 95

Quite safe—quite safe—was the joyful answer.

Wonderful! wonderful! exclaimed one and all.

The time of most danger had nowcome. The
heaving and rolling of the ship was dreadful. It
was quite impossible to board her in the ordinary
way, with satety.

What shall we do? inquired Mr. Kellogg.

Go aloft, said I, and fix a tackle to the fore-yard;
then throw us the rope with a strong hook to it.

This was soon done; and now we ventured
cautiously near enough to seize the rope, and
made fast the hook to the bow of the boat.

Now, said I, let each one hold tight; but poor
‘Tom said he could not hold on; so I lashed him
fast by means of a spare rope. Heave away, my
lads—steady—strong. Up we went, boat and all.
Higher still, said I, that we may be certain of
clearing the ship’s side.

This done, the boat was swung back and forth,
until she was directly.over the deck. It wasa
moment of great danger; our fall might be our
death, but it was our only chance of safety. Now,
down! let her fall! said L—and down we came.
The crash was tremendous; the boat was nearly
stoved in pieces. No one escaped injury; but,
thanks to God, no lives were lost. Poor Tom

Ha THE WHALE.
a2uU

suffered the most—his thigh was broken, and he
was otherwise much bruised; but he is now as
comfortable as could be expected.

Once more on board, we wore ship, and again
put before the wind. From this time the storm
continued to increase, and before morning our
masts went by the board. Soon after day-break,
its violence was past, and before noon we were
able to begin preparations to erect a jury-mast,
which having done, we once more directed our
course homeward.”

THE WHALE.

In the course of a few weeks, Captain Russel
found himself at leisure to enjoy the company of
his family. During his absence, both William
and Anne had grown very much. William, espe-
cially, was beginning to have a considerable stock
of ideas on many subjects; but if his thoughts
.dwelt on any one subject more than another, it
was on the pleasures of a sea-faring life, especially
when connected with the wonders of whale
catching. All this was natural. It had been the
business of his grandfather for years, to whose

THE WHALE. 99
stories he had listened with delight; and the bu-
siness of his father, too, about whom, while absent,
his mother had told him many a tale. }

It was natural, therefore, for William to think
much, and talk much, about going a whaling,
when he should be old enough. And it was ap-
parent that he felt quite unhappy when his father
said that he should go to sea no more, and that
he destined his son for a different sphere of life.

“You will tell me then, father,” said William,
“what you know about the whale, and whale
catching, if I may not go?”

“{ shall do so with pleasure,” replied Captain
Russel, “if it will gratify you, my son, and stand
instead of your following a life so full of toil and
danger as that of whale-catching.”

The evening following, the family having as-
sembled, Captain Russel entered, seated himself,
and opening a book that he had brought in with
him, presented to his children a fine picture of a
whale, observing at the same time, “it is a very
correct drawing of the common whale.”

“Are there more kinds of whales than one?’
inquired William.

“Several varieties, about each of which I will
tell you something,” answered Capt. Russel.

*

30 THE WHALE.

“The Razor-pack is the largest animal of the
whale tribe, and probably the most powerful and
most bulky of all created beings. ‘This kind of
whale, sometimes called the Physalas, is about one
hundred feet long, and from thirty to forty feet
round. ‘The elephant seldom exceeds nine feet
in length, and weighs not more than eight or nine
thousand pounds; how small, then, would he be,
compared: with an animal one hundred feet long,
ten or twelve feet thick, and weighing one hun-
dred tons!”

“One hundred tons, father!” exclaimed William,
“do you mean that the whale weighs one hun-
dred tons?”

“Yes, my son, and probably often more. This
is the Razor-back whale. ‘The Common whale is
seldom so long, nor is he near as heavy. The
Razor-back whale is both longer and more slen-
der than the common whale. It is also more v:o-
lent, and swims with greater velocity. It some-
times goes twelve miles an hour. Its breathing,
or blowing, is also more violent.”

“Breathing! father; do whales breathe?”

“Yes, my son, all fish breathe. But whales,
being unable to separate the air from the water,
as fishes do, by means of their gills, must come to

THE WHALE. 31

en re een ae eee eee ee

Pe ee

the surface of the water. ‘This they usually do
once in five or ten minutes; but sometimes, when
feeding, once in fifteen or twenty minutes. They
generally remain at the surface of the water about
two minutes, and blow eight or nine times.

“Blow! what is meant by that, father?”

“You observed, my son,” replied Capt. R. “in
the picture of the whale, the appearance of water
or vapor issuing from blow-holes placed nearly on
the crown of the whale’s head. These are sup-
posed to be his nostrils, through which he forces
the water with so much power, as to resemble
the discharge of a cannon.

The Razor-back whale, although much larger
than the common whale, is seldom sought for by
fishermen, both because it is much more danger-
ous to attack, and yields much less oil, and that
of an inferior quality.”

“Pray, father, how much oil does this kind of
whale yield?” asked William.

“Generally not more than twelve tuns; but the
largest sized common whale often yields thirty.”

“You have not told us, father,’ observed Wil-
liam, “what ocean this whale frequents.”

“It is found in great numbers,” replied Capt. R.
“in the Polar Seas, around the island of Nova

59 THE WHALE,

Zembla, Spitzbergen, and other high latitudes
They are often seen sporting around the icebergs,
those immense mountains of ice which, forming
on the coasts of the Northern regions, are at last
detached, and float into the broad ocean. ‘These
are often two or three thousand feet high; and, at
a distance, strongly resemble castles, or perhaps a
fleet under full sail. Around these mountains of
ice, so dreadful to whaling ships, the Razor-backs
play without fear.

- The Broap-nosep wHaLe.—This species fre-
quents the coasts of Scotland, Ireland, and Nor-
way, and is said to feed principally upon herring,
Its length is commonly about fifty feet, although I
have read of several which were killed on the coast
of Ireland, which were from seventy to eighty feet.
This whale resembles, in several particulars, the
Razor-back, with which it is usually classed; but
it yields still less oil, and is never sought after as
an object of profit.

The Finner seldom, if ever, exceeds fifty feet
in length, and twenty feet in circumference. It is
so called, I suppose, from its having a large fin on
its back, which is wanting in other species of the
whale. I have read of this kind of whale, but I
never saw one. It is found on the coast of Nor-
way and Shetland, but is not very abundant.

THE WHALE. < 33,

The Beakep wHa ez is the smallest of the whole |
race, or genus. It inhabits principally the Nor-
wegian seas, where it has been found of the length
of about twenty feet.

The SpeERMACETI WHALE derives its name from
a soft and oily-feeling substance, which is found
in its head, and to which the name of sperm, or
spermaceti, has been given. Great use is made of
this, for candles, it being thought much superior to
tallow, as it burns longer, and gives a more bril-
liant light. ‘This whale has been occasionally
taken in the northern seas, especially on the
American coast; but is found in larger numbers
in the Southern Pacific Ocean, where a great many
of them are annually killed by American whalers.

The common whale is generally found single,
but spermaceti whales usually clan together; and
herds are frequently seen containing two hundred
ormore. ‘They are attacked as follows:— W hen-
ever a number of them are seen, four boats, each
provided with two or three lines, two harpoons,
four lances, and a crew of six men, proceed in
pursuit, and, if possible, each strikes or fastens to
a distinct animal, and each crew kill their own.
When one of the herd is struck, he commonly
takes the lead, and is followed by the rest. He

24 THE WHALE.

seldom descends far under, but generally swims off
with great rapidity, stopping after a short course,
so that the boat can be brought up to him by the
line, or rowed sufficiently near to lance him. In
the agonies of death, the struggles of the animal
are truly tremendous, and the surface of the ocean
is lashed into foam by the motions of the fins and
tail. ‘Tall jets of blood are discharged from the
blow-holes, which show that the wounds have
taken mortal effect, and seeing this, the boats are
kept aloof, lest they should be dashed in pieces
by the violent efforts of the victim. When a herd
is attacked in this way, ten or twelve of the num-
ber are often killed. Those which are only
wounded, are seldom captured. After the whale
is killed, the boats tow it to the side of the ship.
If the weather is fair, and other whales are in
sight, they are again sent to the attack.

Next comes the separation of the blubber, or
fat, from the animal. ‘This is called flensing, and
is sometimes done differently from the manner
used in Polar whaling. A strip of blubber is cut
in a spiral direction, and being raised by a pulley,
turns the whale round as on an axis, until all the
blubber is stripped off. ‘The material contained
within the head, consisting of spermaceti, mixed

THE WHALE. 85

=~

with oil, being in a fluid state while warm, is taken
out of large whales in buckets, while the animal
remains in the water; but in smaller ones the part
of the head containing the spermaceti is hoisted
on deck before the cavity is opened.

The substances taken from the head congeal as
soon as cold, and in this state are put into the
casks, and are purified at the end of the voyage,
on shore. [he oil is extracted from the blubber
much after the manner in which tallow is tried,
by means of two copper boilers, with which whale
ships are always furnished. As the oil is extracted,
it is thrown into coolers, and after about twenty-
four hours it is transferred to casks. At first, the
coppers are heated by fire made with wood; but,
afterwards, the refuse blubber is used, and pro-
duces a fierce fire. .

The quantity of oil obtained from a spermaceti
whale, is much less than that obtained from the
common whale, but is far superior in value, being
mixed with the substance called spermaceti.

The Narwat is another species of whale. It is
generally less than sixteen feet in length, and dif-
fers but little from a small whale, excepting that
it has a long spiral tooth or tusk, which has ob-
tained ‘for it the name of Unicorn. This tooth

36 THE WHALE.

erows from the left side of the head, and is some-
times nine or ten feet long. The use of this sin-
gular and formidable tusk is not known.

The Narwal is a harmless animal. It is easily
taken; sometimes being shot with a rifle, and at
other times harpooned. It usually yields two or
three tuns of fine oil. The Greenlanders and Es-
quimaux employ the whole animal for various uses.
The flesh is eaten; the oil burned in their lamps;
the intestines wrought into lines and dresses; and
the tusks used for spears. It is said that the king
of Denmark has a magnificent and valuable throne
made entirely of Narwal tusks.

I have now told you, my son, about the several
kinds of whales which are found in the ocean,
excepting one.”

“Pray, father, what is that?” asked William.

«The Common Wuatz,—lI say common, be-
cause it is more abundant than the other kinds; or,
at least, is more productive of oil, and is sought
after by fishermen, as upon the whole more valu-
able. I have read many great stories about the
size of the whale; but the longest which I ever
measured was sixty feet. Some have been taken
which were a few feet longer, but any seldom, if
ever, excced seventy feet. In the largest place

THE WHALE. 39
they are from ten to twelve feet through, or from
thirty to forty feet in circumference. Its head is
generally about one third of its length, and when
its mouth is open, it is capable of holding a mer-
chant ship’s jolly-boat, filled with men.”

“Father,” said William, “in the picture which
you have shown me of the whale, I can see no ears
—did the engraver forget to put them on?”

“He very properly omitted them,” replied Cap-
tain Russel, “because it has no external ear, and
no hole or orifice for the admission of sound, can
be discovered till the skin is removed.”

“Can he hear quick, then?”

“No, he seems dull of hearing. Even the shout
of a person, when only at the distance of a ship’s
length, seems to be unnoticed by him; but when
the water is calm, a slight splashing alarms him.”

“Does he see objects at a great distance!”

“When lying on the surface of the water, he
does not see far; but, when under the surface,
whales discover one afiother in clear water at an
amazing distance; yet their eyes are not much
larger than those of a common sized ox.”

“In what part of the whale is the whale-bone
found?” asked William. |

“Jn the mouth,” replied Captain Russel, “across

40 THE WHALE.

which it lies in layers, called amine; upwards of
three hundred of which are found in every full
grown whale. ‘These layers, in their greatest
length, are sometimes fifteen feet, but generally
from ten to twelve. Immediately under the skin
lies the blubber, or fat, which is from eight to ten,
and even twenty inches thick, varying in different
parts, as well as in different individuals. The
color of the whale is velvet black, grey, and some-
tumes white, with a tinge of yellow. The color
of the blubber is yellowish white; sometimes yel-
low, or red. In its fresh state it has no unpleasant
smell, and it is not until the end of the voyage,
when the cargo of a whale-ship is unstowed, that
the latter becomes disagreeable.

The tail of the whale is a great curiosity. Its
length is seldom more than five or six feet; but
its width is from eighteen to twenty-four. Dy
means of this, it urges its bulky weight through
the billows and depths of the ocean, and ascends
to the surface with such rapidity as to throw its
huge form almost entirely out of water. Some-
times he places himself in a perpendicular posi-
tion, with his head downwards, and rearing his
tale on high, beats the water with awful violence.
On these occasions, the sea foams, and vapors

WHALE SHIPS, BOATS, AND INSTRUMENTS. 4
darken the air; the lashing is heard several miles
off, like the roar of a distant tempest.”

“Is it known, father,” inquired William, “upon
what whales live ?”

“Some kinds live upon herring, and perhaps
larger fish; but the food of the common whale is
a kind of znsect, which is said to be no larger than
abean. ‘This insect floats in clusters upon the
ocean, and is their principal food.”

“Js it known to what age whales attain ?”

“Not with certainty, although it is supposed
they live to agreat age. At twenty or twenty-five
years, they reach their full growth. After this age,
the blubber is harder, and yields less oil, and the
color of the whale becomes more grey, with a yel-
lowish tinge of the white parts about the head.”

WHALE SHIPS, BOATS, AND INSTRUMENTS.
“Before I tell you about the manner in which
whales are taken,” continued Capt. Russel, “it will
be proper to let you know something of the vessels,

boats, and instruments used in this business.
The first object is to fit out a ship suited to the
trade. Formerly, whale-ships were so slightly
built, that many of them were lost amidst the

42 WHALE SHIPS, BOATS, AND INSTRUMENTS.

tempests and ice with which the polar regiéns
abound. ‘Those of later construction possess a
peculiar degree of strength.

Whale-ships are of different dimensions; but
those of about 340 tons are thought to be ‘most
desirable. Each ship is furnished with several
boats, and manned with forty to fifty seamen.

The boats being very liable to receive damage,
are built with refererice to strength and buoyancy.
The largest kind, called six-oared boats, are able
to carry seven men, six of whom, besides the har-
pooner, are rowers. Besides the mien, they carry
six or eight hundred weight of whale-lines. ‘The
other boats are somewhat smaller, being five-oared
boats, four-oared boats, &c..

In the capture of whales, the most important
instrument, perhaps, is the har poon, which is made
of iron, and about three feet in length. (See Fig.1.)

Next in importance to the harpoon, is the lance,
which is a spear of iron of the length of six feet,
The blade of this instrument is made very thin,
and exceedingly sharp. (See Fug. 2.) The use of
this is, to penetrate the vital parts of the whale,
and to occasion his death.

Another instrument which has sometimes beer
used, is called the harpoon-gun. (See fig. 3.) It

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MODE OF CAPTURING THE WHALE. 45

consists of a kind of swivel, with a wrought iron
barrel about two feet in length. This gun was
invented in the year 1731, and has since been
much improved. A harpoon made for the pur-
pose, (See Fig. 4.) it is said may be thrown from it
with effect, for the distance of forty yards.

As soon as a whaling-ship has arrived in those
seas which are the haunt of the whale, the crew
must be every moment on the alert, keeping
watch day and night. The boats are kept
hanging by the sides of the ship, ready to be
launched in a few minutes, and when the state
of the sea admits, one of them is usually manned
and afloat. ‘The captain, or some principal offi-
cer, seated in the main top, surveys the waters
to a great distance, and the instant he sees the
back of the huge animal which they seek to at-
tack, emerging from the waves, gives notice to
the watch, who are stationed on deck; part of
whom leap into a boat, which is instantly low-
ered down, and followed by a second, if the fish |
be a large one. Each of the boats has a har-
pooner, and one or two subordinate officers, and
is provided with an immense quantity of rope
coiled together and stowed in different quarters
of it, the several parts being spliced together, so

46 MODE OF CAPTURING THE WHALE.

as to form a continued line, usually exceeding
four thousand feet in length. ‘To the end is at-
tached the harpoon, an instrument formed, not to
pierce and kill the animal, but, by entering and
remaining fixed in the body, to prevent its escape.
One of the boats is now rowed towards the whale,
in the deepest silence, cautiously avoiding to give
an alarm, of which he is ver y susceptible. Hav-
ing approached as near as is consistent with
safety, the harpooner darts his instrument into
the back of the monster.

This is a critical moment; for when this mighty
animal feels himself struck, he often throws him-
self into violent convulsive movements, vibrating
in the air his tremendous tail, one lash of which
is sufficient to dash a boat in pieces. More com-
monly, however, he plunges with rapid flight into
the depths of ae sea, or beneath the Thicke
fields and mountains of ice. While he is thus
moving with such rapidity, the utmost diligence
must be used, that the line to which the harpoon
is attached may run off smoothly and readily

along with him. Should it be entangled for a
mene. the strength of the whale is such, that
he would draw the boat and crew after him un-
der the water.

MODE OF CAPTURING THE WHALE. A
The first boat ought to be quickly followed
by a second, to supply more line when the
first is run out, which often takes place. in eight
or ten minutes. When the crew of a boat see
the line in danger of being all run off, they hold
up, one, two, or three oars, to intimate their press-
ing need of a supply. At the same time, they
turn the rope once or twice round a kind of post,
called the bollard, by which the motion of the
line, and the career of the animal, are somewhat
retarded. This, however, is a delicate operation,
which brings the side of the boat down to the
very edge of the water, and if the rope is drawn
at all too tight, may sink it altogether. While
the line is whirling round the bollard, the friction
is so violent, that the harpooner is enveloped in
smoke, and water must be constantly poured on
to prevent it from catching fire. When, after all,
no aid arrives, and the crews find that the line
must run out, they have only one resource,—
they cu¢ zt, losing thereby, not only the whale,
but the harpoon and all the ropes of the boat.
The period during which a wounded whale
remains under water is various, but is averaged ~
by Mr. Scoresby at half an hour. Then, pressed
by the necessity of respiration, he appears above,

48 MODE OF CAPTURING THE WHALE.

often considerably distant from the spot where
he was harpooned, and in a state of great ex-
haustion, which the same ingenious writer as-
cribes to the severe pressure that he has endure],
when placed beneath a column of water seven or
eight hundred fathoms deep.

All the boats have, in the mean-time, been
spreading themselves in various directions, that
one at least may be within a s¢arét, as it is called,
of the point of his rising, where they can easily
reach him with one or two more harpoons before
he again descends, as he usually stays at the sur- ~
face for a few minutes. On his re-appearance, a
general attack is made with lances, which are
struck as deep as possible, to reach and penetrate
the vital parts. Blood, mixed with oil, streams
copiously from his wounds and from the blow-
holes, dyeing the sea to a great distance, and
sometimes drenching the boats and crews.

The animal now becomes more and more ex-
hausted ; but at the approach of his dissolution
he often makes a convulsive and energetic strug-
gle, rearing his tail high in the air, and whirling
it with a noise which is heard at the distance of
several miles. At length, quite overpowered
and exhausted, he lays himself on his side or

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DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY. 5]

back and expires. No time is lost in piercing
the tail with two holes, through which ropes are
passed, which being fastened to the boats, they
drag the fish to the vessel amid shouts of joy.

The whale being thus caught and secured to
the sides of the ship, the next operation is that
of flensing ; that is, extracting the blubber and
whale-bone, about which I have told you suffi-
cient to give you a general idea; excepting that
in the case of the common whale, the blubber is
kept in casks until the arrival of the vessel at
home, when the oil is extracted in large copper
boilers.”

DANGERS OF THE WIIALE-FISHERY.
Here William interrupted his father, by ob-
serving, that even if it were a toilsome business,
whale catching must be a pleasant employment.
“Ah!” exclaimed the old grandfather, “had
you seen as much as I have of it, you would
think it more than toilsome.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Capt. Russel. “In spite
of the utmost care, the dangers are imminent
and manifold. Few men vursue the~ business

3%

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52 DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY.

many years without seeing others suffer and per-
ish, if calamity does not come upon themselves.”

“Pray father,” inquired William, “ wherein
lies the great danger! I thought the danger just
enough to give some life and interest to the busi-
ness.”

“Well,” said Captain Russel, “I must relate
some of the catastrophes which have befallen
whaling-ships and their crews, and then, master
William, we will leave you to say whether this
kind of life has more of pleasure than of danger.

Whalers are often in very great danger by rea-
son of the whale, which they are pursuing, be-
coming much enraged, and suddenly turning
upon them. ‘The Dutch wisters mention a man
by the name of Vienkes, who, after a whale had
been struck, was hastening with a second boat
to the support of the first. The fish, however,
rose, and with its head struck the boat so furi-
ously, that it was shivered to pieces, and Vienkes

was thrown with its fragments on the back of

the huge animal. Even then this bold mariner
darted a second harpoon into the body of his
victim; but unfortunately he got entangled in
thé line ahd could not extricate himself, while
the other party were unable to approaeh near

aa

DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY. 53
enough to save him. At last, however, the har-
poon was disengaged, and he swam to the boat.

Mr. Scoresby, in one of his earliest voyages,
saw a boat thrown several yards into the air,
from which it fell on its side, plunging the crew
into the sea. ‘l'hey were happily soon taken up,
when only one was found to have received severe
injury. A ship on the Labrador coast, in 1802,
h\d a boat thrown fifteen feet into the air. It
cane down into the water, with its keel up-
wards; but fortunately all the men except one
were saved.

The crew of Mr. Scoresby, the elder, in 1807,
had struck a whale, which soon re-appeared,
but in a state of such violent agitation that no
one durst approach it. The captain courage-
ously undertook to encounter it, in a boat by
himself, and succeeded in striking a second har-
poon. But another boat having advanced too.
close, the animal brandished its tail with so much
fury, that the harpooner, who was directly under,
judged it most prudent to leap into the sea. And
it was well for him that he did so, for the tail
struck the boat in the very place that he had
left, and cut the boat entirely asunder, so that

54 DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY.

if he had remained he must have been dashed in
pieces. Happily all the others escaped injury.

The results, however, are not always so for-
tunate. The Aimwell, of Whitby, in 1810, lost
three men out of seven; and in 1812, the Hen-
rietta, of the same port, lost four men out of six,
by the boats being upset and the crews thrown
into the sea.

In 1809, one of the men belonging to the Res-
olution, of Whitby, struck a sucking whale ; after
which the mother, being seen wheeling rapidly
round, was narrowly watched. Mr. Scoresby,
being on this occasion the harpooner of another
boat, was selecting the situation where the parent
fish would probably re-appear, when suddenly
an invisible blow from the animal beneath the
water, stove in fifteen feet of the hottom of his
boat, which filled with water and instantly sunk.
The crew were, however, saved.

Entanglement in the line, while the retreating
whale is drawing it off with rapidity, is often
productive of serious disasters. A sailor, be-
longing to the John, of Greenock, in 1818, hap-
pening to step into a coil of running rope, had a
foot entirely carried off, and was obliged to have
the lower part of the leg amputated.

.

DANGERS GF THE WHALE FISHERY. 55

_—_—_—

A harpooner, belonging to the Henrietta,. of
Whitby, very imprudently threw some of the
line under his feet. A sudden start of the fish
made it twist round his body. He had just time
to cry out—“Clear away the line! Oh dear!”
when he was cut almost asunder, dragged over-
board, and never more seen.

A whale sometimes causes great danger by
proving to be alive, after being supposed to be
dead. Mr. Scoresby mentions one which ap-
peared to be so decidedly dead, that he himself
had leaped on the tail, and was busy putting a
rope through it, when he suddenly felt the ani-
mal sinking from under him. He made a spring
towards a boat some yards distant—succeeded in
catching hold of it, and was assisted on board.
The fish then moved forwards, reared his tail aloft,
and shook it with such prodigious violence, that it
resounded to the distance of several miles. After
a few minutes of this vidlent exertion, he rolled on
his side and expired.

Even after life is extinct, all danger is not over.
In the operation of flensing, the harpooners some-
times fall into the whale’s mouth, and are in danger
of being drowned. If there is a heavy swell, they
are drenched, and sometimes washed over by the

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56 DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY.

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surge. Sometimes they have their ropes broken,
and are wounded by each others’ knives.

Mr. Scoresby mentions a harpooner who, after
the flensing was completed, had his foot attached
by a hook to the carcass, when the latter was in-
advertently cut away. ‘The mancaught hold of
the gunwale of the boat. But the whole im-
mense mass being now suspended by his body,
occasioned the most excruciating torture, and
even exposed him to the danger of being torn in
two. His companions, however, contrived to
hook the carcass with a grapnel and bring it
back to the surface.

A story is related of the escape of a whale, in
the year 1812, from a boat’s crew belonging to
the Resolution, Capt. Whitby, which would be-
quite incredible, were it not well attested. This
whale, being struck, soon run out the first boat’s
lines, and indeed, the lines which belonged to
a second and a third boat, which came to the
assistance of the first. A signal was made for
still more lime, and a boat was despatched to
carry relief. But before the whale-boat could
be reached, she was on a level with the water,
being almost pulled under by the fugitive Whale,
while the harpooner, from the friction of the line,

DANGERS OF THE WHALE FISHERY. By

ous

was enveloped in smoke. At length, says the
author to whom we are indebted for the story,
when the relief was within a hundred yards,
the crew were seen to throw their jackets upon
the nearest ice, and then leap into the sea. After
this, the end of the boat rose into the air, and
making a majestic curve, was drawn beneath the
waters with all the lines attached to it. The
crew were saved. A vigorous pursuit was im-
mediately commenced. The whale, being traced
through narrow and intricate channels in the ice,
was at length discovered considerably to the east-
ward. ‘Three harpoons were then darted at him.

The lines of two other boats were then run
out, when, by an accidental entanglement, they
broke, and the whale went off with about four
miles of rope, which, with the boat, were valued
at $700. The daring fishers again gave chase,
The whale was seen, but again escaped. A
third time it appeared—the whalers reached it.
Two more harpoons were struck into it. The
animal being now plied with lances, became
entirely exhausted and yielded to its fate. It had
by that time drawn out ten thousand four hun-
dred and forty yards, or about six miles of line,
Unfortunately one of the harpoons had been dis-

58 SHIPWRECKS IN THE NORTHERN SEAS.

——

—a

engaged, and a boat and thirteen lines, nearly
two miles in length, attached to it, were de-
tached and never recovered.

Several accounts are given by the same writer
of distressing shipwrecks which have occurred in
the northern seas. One of these, which I will
relate, took place in the year 1777.

Capt. Broerties, in the Guillamine, arrived at
the great bank of northern ice on the 22nd of
June. Here he found fifty vessels moored and
busied in the fishery. He began it very pros-
perously. Indeed, the very next day he killed
a large whale. ‘The day after, a tempest drove
in the ice with such violence, that twenty-seven
of the ships were surrounded, of which ten were
lost. On the 25th of July, Broerties saw some
appearance of an opening, and caused his vessel to
be warped through by the boats. But after four
days’ labor she found herself, with four other ships,
in a narrow basin, enclosed by ice on every side.

On the Ist of August, a violent storm began,
which driving the ice against the vessels, placed
them in the greatest danger for several days. On
the 20th, a dreadful gale arose from the north-
east, in which the Guillamine suffered considera-
ble damage. In this awful tempest, twe of the

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SHIPWRECKS IN THE NORTHERN SEAS. 61

five ships went down, while a third sprung a
number of leaks. ‘The crews were taken on
board the three remaining vessels, which made
them very much crowded. On the 25th all
three were completely frozen in. It was now
resolved to send a party of twelve men to seek
aid from four vessels, which had been driven a
few days before into a station at a little distance
On their arrival, they found two of these had
been dashed in pieces, and the other two were in
a most deplorable condition. ‘T'wo other ships,
somewhat farther off, had perished in a similar
manner. Meantime, the former came in sight of
Greenland, and the tempest still driving them
southward, Iceland at length was seen to their
left. The two more distant vessels found a little
opening, through which they contrived to escape.
The crews of the three others were beginning to
hope that they might do the same, when, on the
13th of September, a whole mountain of ice fell
upon the Guillamine. The poor sailors, half
naked, jumped out upon the frozen surface.
They saved with great difficulty only a small
portion of their provisions. One of the two other
ships had just met a similar fate. ‘There now
remained only one, to which they all looked for
refuge. By leaping from one piece of ice to

6 SHIPWRECKS IN THE NORTHERN SEAS.

another, they contrived to reach this vessel,
which, though in extreme distress herself, re-
ceived them on board. ‘Though now so shat-
tered and over-crowded, she was obliged, imme-
diately after, to accommodate fifty other seamen.
These were the crew of another vessel, which
had just gone down; the chief harpooner and
twelve of the sailors having perished. These
numerous companies, crowded into a crazy bark,
suffered every kind of distress. Their distress,
however, was increased, when, on the 11th of
October, the vessel went to pieces, in the same
manner as the others had done; leaving the poor
sailors hardly time to leap upon the ice with
their remaining provisions. With great difh-
culty they reached a field of ice of some extent.
Here they made a sort of tent with their torn
sails, which they had saved. But if they re-
mained here they must certainly perish. They
saw no way of escape except by scrambling over
the frozen surface to the coast of Greenland,
which was in sight. After much toil and danger
they accomplished their object. Happily, they
met with seme inhabitants, who received them
hospitably, and fed them with dried fish and seal’s
flesh After the extreme hunger they had suf-
fered, this seemed delicious fand, Thence they

, CONCLUSION. 63
traveled across the dreary country, suffering
much distress). They at length reached the
Danish settlement of Frederikshaab. Here they
were kindly treated, and at length were enabled
to return to their native country, i

Capt. Russel paused, after he had finished the
stories, and William, who had listened very
attentively, covered his face with his hands, and
seemed to be thinking about something very im-
portant. At length he said,—“ Father, those are
dreadful stories which you have been telling us.”

“And yet, my son,” said Capt. Russel, “you
dre wishing to share in similar toils and perils.”

“ T—J don’t know,” said William.

“Oh,” said Anne, “I should feel very bad in-
deed, if brother William should go to sea. How
dreadful it would be, should he be wrecked !”

“Look, William,” said Capt. Russel—*look
at~your mother, and see how pale she is at the
thought of your going.” —

William was an affectionate son, and he flew té
comfort his mother. ‘Throwing his arms around
her neck, he exclaimed— __

“Mother—dear mother—I did not know that
whaling was so dangerous. I only thought how
glad I should be to see you all after a successful
voyage, and how happy we should all be. 1 did
not think about your aiixiety while I was gone.

64 CONCLUSION. n

I will be a farmer, a merchant, or whatever else
you wish me to be, and I dare say that I shall
be happier than I should be, half frozen in the
main-top, looking out for a whale.”

Mrs. Russel smiled as she pressed her darling
boy in her arms; but the tears came into her
eyes as she said—

“T shail feel bad enough, when you have to
leave us, my dear William, though you should
go but a short distance from home ; but I should
be distressed indeed to have you depart on such
a perilous enterprize. But, my children, you
look tired. You have been so much interested
in your father’s stories, as to forget that it is
quite late.”

“JT do feel sleepy,’ said Anne. “Vm sure I
shall dream to night about whales as long as
from the ground to the top of the. church-steeple.”

“T hope,” said the old grandfather, “ that my
dear little grand-children will not forget, before
they go to sleep, to thank that kind Providence
wh.ch has preserved their father through danger
and hardships, and once more restored him to us.”

END